starting is such sweet sorrow

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Ever since I was very young I have told myself stories before going to sleep (though sometimes I get so involved in them they keep me awake). For the last couple of decades many of these have been about the two Bloomacre brothers - one a musician/composer/instrument maker and the other a mathematician turned mercenary - set against a fantasy background similar to Europe's wars of the reformation, where a church based on magic oppresses those who eschew it as a perversion of their faith. It's a kind of anti-fantasy fiction I guess, but I have never once tried to write down for fear of spoiling it, or finding it dreadfully boring to others.

Writing tg fiction was, in a way, of learning to write, to get the ideas down on paper and face the acid test. Yet now I find myself beset by the same worries when I write tg stories. I spend a lot of time working out plots, characters, even whole chunks of dialogue in my head before going anywhere near a keyboard, and now I find myself shying away from the page, finding other things to do, making excuses about not having the time to do it properly. When I finally get to write it's almost painful, as everything flows onto the page in one mad rush that leaves me overwhelmed, and utterly drained.

Does this happen to anyone else, and is there a way of conquering it?

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